Help Me
by Katie1995
Summary: One-shot! *WARNING! Rated T for sensitive material Abortion !* "Come here," I say, hoarsely. I take Haymitch's hands and place them on my abdomen. His eyes go wide. "President Snow, wants to punish me for Seneca's mistake," I whisper.


**A/N – I do not own **_**The Hunger Games **_**or the characters in any way; all rights are reserved to **_**Suzanne Collins.**_

**Help Me**

**Effie's P.O.V.**

I don't want to get out of bed. Today's the day where I destroy myself further. I look around my still dark room; the calendar hanging on the wall opposite me is the only thing I can barely make out. In a week it will be the third Quarter Quell, and Katniss will be put back in again.

How I hated that man.

President Snow.

How he has seeded himself far too deep within me, his words resounding through me. "_There is one more little thing we need to take care of."_

My hands reach for my abdomen automatically and fresh tears threaten to pour down my cheeks. No, today was the day I accepted hell and lived for nothing. I swing my legs around and place my feet on the floor. I can't do this, I just can't. I've already lost him; I can't lose this, too. My fingers wrap around the edge of the mattress and dig into the material deeply. A scream threatens to leave my throat and so I swallow it desperately. I don't want to wake anyone up, especially Haymitch, who's here to make sure the penthouse is absolutely safe from dangers such as razors and materials, which the tributes – Katniss and Peeta - could potentially kill themselves with. Normally... Seneca... would have done Haymitch's job, but he's not here anymore.

_Get over it, Effie, _I scorn myself. _He's dead, you watched him die! _

The room outside my room is illuminated with yellow light and I get up, peeking through the crack between the closed door and the door frame. I can see a figure on the sofa lounging lazily around. I don't know who it is, but I can't understand why someone would be up as early as this if they hadn't any business to be getting on with.

I pull back as the figure turns his head towards my door, my heart pounding suddenly in my chest. No-one's going to hurt me here, no-one but myself.

The shower is a welcoming sensation on my rigid body. The soap is fluffy and I wash my hair with a lemon scented shampoo. I can't miss, however, the small bump that protrudes from my abdomen when the sponge passes over my body. My hand pauses uncertainly and I gasp, my balance nearly failing me. I place a hand on the wall and then, as if my legs can't take the weight anymore, I slide to the bottom. The tears begin out of my own control and I sob. Its better I do this now then when I'm actually at the clinic. I think they'll have to knock me out before they can do anything.

The glass to the showers has steamed over and I can no longer see outside meaning no-one – the Avoxs especially, can't see in. I'd hate for anyone to see me like this. At least, in the districts, the president can't find you, won't bother, and won't care, because unlike people like me, the districts are far less impacting to his status than we are. But it's changing, because Katniss will destroy them, Cinna's told me everything and the thing that keeps me going now, is that President Snow still has no idea what's happening throughout each district now. That while he thinks he can control her, the girl on fire has done far too much damage to save him from the rebels that hate him.

People like me, people like Cinna, people like Haymitch.

"Effie?" A voice calls through the bedroom door and I look sideways. "I can hear the shower. You've been in there forever" – the voice pauses – "Are you okay?"

I grimace at the question. No, I am not okay. I don't think I'll ever be okay after today. I push myself up with the help of the tiled walls and switch the shower off. "Why should you care?" I retort, harshly, because the voice calling through the door is Haymitch's voice.

I hear footsteps on the panelled floor outside my door. "Well sorry, Sweetheart, for showing a little concern."

I close my eyes and drop my head. I can be a total bitch sometimes. Getting out of the shower, I grab the closet pink towel and pat myself dry, scared I'll hurt the little life within me – which of course, I will soon enough. The sudden thought knocks the breath from my body and I realise just how much I'm going to hurt myself.

"Haymitch?" My voice sounds alien, not mine! It's full of hurt and pain and it scares me because I never thought I'd feel this way.

"What?" he answers, somewhat angry.

I suck in a breath and try again. "Can you come in please?"

I hear a scoff and I close my eyes. He doesn't care. And why should he?

"What do you need me for, Sweetheart?" Words leave me. What _do _I need him for?

"Please!" I beg, my now dressed figure slumping to the bed behind me. The door handle twists and I catch my breath, hoping that I can talk to him. Light floods my shadowed room and I squint as a blurry figure comes into view.

"What do you want from me, woman?" he asks, his voice full of slight anger.

"I don't know," I whisper as he walks towards me, for the first time, sober.

A moment of silence passes between us and he wanders idly towards me, sitting next to me. I have no makeup on, no wig, I'm just... me, I guess. I can tell he feels out of place. Since when have I allowed him near me before?

I look at him from the corner of my eye and see he's watching me intently. The question falls from my mouth before I can stop myself. "How do you deal with losing everyone you love?"

Haymitch is taken aback, his mouth falls agape and his eyes grow wide. "Effie, why would you ask-

"I need your help, Haymitch, please."

The man next to me frowned and I began to feel lost. I couldn't do this by myself.

"What's the price?" he asked, tiredly. "You Capitol people usually use us district people for your own needs."

"Nothing, it's nothing," I answer, "Haymitch, I need your help." My voice rises and I begin to lose myself again.

"Why should I help you?" he retorts, hatefully. "You're a no good Capitol woman who's selfish, naive and stupid. Why should I help someone who can't help themselves?"

The anger and hurt boils deep within me and it hurts hearing the words come from his mouth. "Why should I help a drunkard like you every night each time a nightmare hits him, hey?" I hiss, lowly, "Or when I try to stop your drinking problem because one day you're going to drink yourself to death."

"Oh, please, Sweetheart, save me the sob story."

I get up and tears begin to swim in my eyes. "You know nothing!" I scream at him. "Nothing!" I repeat. "Do you know what I have to do today?" I whisper, my anger beginning to be replaced by sorrow. "Do you know what _he_ is forcing me to do?"

I place my hands on the wall behind me and slide to the floor. Haymitch is no longer in the bed, but standing before me with concern on his face. "Effie, you're not making any sense."

"How can I do it, Haymitch?" I ask, my chest tight with the weight of the day. "How can I when the world no longer makes sense to me?"

Haymitch crouches down in front of me and breathes out a low whistle. "Effie, look at me." I lift my chin up and lock eyes with Haymitch.

"Come here," I say, hoarsely, the effort not to cry crushing me.

I take Haymitch's hands and place them on my abdomen. His eyes go wide as he realises what I'm suggesting. "Effie, how far along-

"A couple of weeks," I mutter, my voice catching. "But I have no choice, Haymitch. President Snow" – I pause as his name leaves my lips and I close my eyes for a second, regaining my composure – "He wants to punish me for Seneca's mistake," I whisper.

"The baby's Crane's?" Haymitch asks. I nod and a tear slips down my cheek.

I shake my head and he pulls me to my feet. I break then and there and words become incoherent sentences. "He wants me to have an abortion," I cry, my hands now fists. "He's ordered two officials to take me to the clinic today; I have no choice! I'm going to lose my baby to him!" I screech.

The words come out thick and flurried and I have no control because I feel relief to be talking to someone about the pain I have to endure. And by the end I'm on my knees again because I can no longer hold myself upright. Haymitch catches me as I fall, and I let my full weight sink onto his arms.

"How do I get over something like this?"

Haymitch sighs and I know no-one can ever probably get over something like this. "You don't," he answers softly; "You just learn to live with the pain," he adds after a pause.

I stay in his arms as a... friend, someone with whom I understand clearly now. Footsteps pass my bedroom door, but no-one intrudes on us. "They'll be here soon," I choke out. "Here to take me away."

Haymitch pulls me closer and helps me up. "You're going by yourself?"

I nod, but refuse to let my eyes brimmed with shame, meet Haymitch's grey ones. "Yes."

Haymitch sighs and drops his head. I look towards the door as two voices pipe up. I can hear Cinna and another, unfamiliar voice. I grip Haymitch's arms tighter as the footsteps grow closer.

"Do you want me to come with you, Sweetheart?" The tears stream down my swallow face and I turn my head towards Haymitch and away from the door.

"Yes." He smiles slightly, but I know he's only trying to reassure me. An abrupt knock sounds on the door and although I'm prepared for what is about to happen, I still jump.

"Should I open it?" Haymitch asks, his voice level, unlike mine.

"Yes," I reply, my answers short due to my throat constricting with tears.

I stumble towards my bed and pick up a beige coloured coat, wrapping it around me, Haymitch opens the door, and there they are.

A woman with uniform, grey hair materialises in the door way, a man who seems younger stands next to her with brown coloured hair. They both wear the colours of the Capitol which are black and white. Their suits resemble that of a peacekeeper's uniform, but instead they have a white cap with the Capitol's seal on it and they have a black sash that crosses their bodies from their left shoulders to their right hips. I can feel the colour slowly draining from my face.

"Effie Trinket?" The woman asks, her voice as cold as the colour of her eyes.

I shuffle forwards. "Here," I breathe.

The woman's eyes drift from Haymitch to me and she smirks a little. "You're aware what we're here for, yes?"

I nod and the man from behind her edges into my room with a pair of cuffs.

God damn it," Haymitch hisses. "She's not going to run for it, is she? Where else does she have to go? She accepted her fate long before you got here," he finished, his voice gruff with the effort not to scream at them.

I give Haymitch a small smile in thanks and he nods in reply as the two officials take my upper arms in their grasp and walk me out the building like a convict. Haymitch follows closely behind me and I look back over my shoulder, mouthing. "Stay close to me."

**~ XOX ~**

The doctor had to put anaesthetise me. I was hysterical, I remember the sobbing and retching, but now I'm floating in nothingness and my pain has become dulled.

"Effie," a voice whispers in the distance.

The fog seems to be lifting and I'm beginning to fall back into reality and I hate it! "Don't," I snap back, angrily. "Don't let me wake up," I say, softer this time.

I hear a chair screech across the floor and a hand rest in mine. "We all have to wake up sooner or later." He says, although his tone sounds... regretful?

"I don't want to wake up."

But I do, and as the blurriness becomes shapes, the grief begins to settle on my tired form. Haymitch, his hand in mine, has suddenly become a friend to me. I clutch his hand, tightly, afraid that if I let go, normality will be gone forever.

"What have I done?" I choke out, my voice a monotone.

Haymitch holds my hand tighter and tears manage to slip out or get lost in my eyelashes. "You did what you had to do," he answers.

I stare at the white ceiling, my chest hurts, and I think I'm going to die right now because surely no-one can survive through so much pain.

"Don't leave me," I beg as Haymitch's hand starts to pull away slightly.

I look sideways and a soft but concerned smile lies on Haymitch's lips. "I promise," he replies, his finger crossing over his heart.

And that's the last thing I see as the morphling pulls me back under and I'm floating again.

**A/N – I've wanted to write this for a long time! Just to be sure, Haymitch and Effie aren't a couple of such in this one-shot. Haymitch is there as a supporter only, a friend really, you could say. Effie's just lost Seneca and President Snow is forcing her further into state of devastation.**

**Anyways, Please Review! Feedback is greatly appreciated.**

Katie1995 :) 


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